


A Dark Dream

by Nadja_Lee



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark, Dreams, Happy Ending, Human Experimentation, Insecurity, Love, M/M, Murder, Protectiveness, Revenge, Shaman Blair Sandburg, Supernatural Elements, Temporary Character Death, Visions, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-23
Updated: 2006-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:13:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22986907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadja_Lee/pseuds/Nadja_Lee
Summary: After Jim is nearly killed, Blair begins to doubt the good he has done and wonders if maybe Jim was better off without him. This leads to him getting a chance to see a glimpse of what kind of life Jim would have had if Blair had indeed never been in his life.
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Kudos: 36





	A Dark Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Nancy who gave me the idea for this story even though she’s not into the Sentinel fandom. Thanks so much, luv *hugs*

**A Dark Dream**

“It would have been better if you had never met me.”

The words were out of Blair’s month without a second thought as he hung his head in misery, feeling utterly useless and helpless.

“Never!” Jim sat up to amplify his words with action. Jim’s reaction was as forceful as the surprisingly strong grip his hand made around Blair’s wrist considering he had just come out of surgery a few hours earlier.

“Man, are you blind or something? I did this,” the last few words were soft, filled with pain and guilt as Blair looked at Jim in the hospital bed, tubes and machines everywhere. Luckily he had a private room and Blair had been sitting by his side ever since he had come out of the ICU.

“Johnson did this; you didn’t,” Jim insisted, his eyes intense as he mentioned the name of the suspect he had been chasing. He let go of Blair and laid back against the pillow again, tight lines in his face and around his lips betraying the pain he was feeling.

A year had passed since Blair had accidentally revealed Jim's secret and a year since he had tried to join the Force, only to have to agree with Jim that his heart just wasn’t in it. He had been doing it for Jim, and Jim alone, and that just wasn’t enough of a reason on which to base a career choice. With the help of some secret connections from Jim’s Covert Ops days, that Blair was sure he didn’t want to know more about, Blair had been accepted into another university in town and had completed and defended a new PhD thesis, reusing a lot of his old material but keeping it theoretical and classifying it. He was now teaching and helping Jim on occasion, like he had from the day they had met.

Only today had been unlike most other days. Jim had almost died. Blair had gotten used to the dangers of Jim’s job but this had been different. It had been one of the days Blair had been with Jim because his senses had been spiking and Blair’s presence always calmed them down. However, Jim’s suspect, Johnson, had eyed his chance and had managed to use Blair against the Sentinel. While Jim had been compelled to see to the safety of innocent bystanders Johnson had used Blair as a human shield. Since Johnson was a former army sniper, Jim had known he had been matched and had faced the very real possibility of losing Blair. He laid down his weapon. What happened next kept replaying in Blair’s head over and over again until he thought he was about to go insane. Johnson had simply shot the Sentinel. No hesitation, no speeches…nothing. Three times in all, in the shoulder, in the leg and in the chest, yet made sure the wounds would not be instantly fatal as he wanted to see the Sentinel suffer in his final hour. Johnson had let down his guard then, gloating over his victory. However, he had not counted on the Sentinel’s drive to protect his Guide, and, with what had looked like superhuman endurance, Jim had fought unconsciousness and pain long enough to shoot Johnson between the eyes. Jim had stayed lucid long enough to ask Blair if Johnson was dead and if Blair was all right. When Blair managed to confirm both, between fear for Jim’s life and yelling for help, Jim had finally given in to the creeping darkness. Jim had never seen how Blair had sat by his body, fought to stop the bleeding, called for reinforcements and how he had waited anxiously throughout Jim’s operation, driving the equally worried Captain Banks nuts with his constant worried questions.

“If I hadn't been there this wouldn't have happened,” Blair insisted, forcing his mind back to the present. Jim had pulled through. He had pulled through. He would be ok. Yet it hadn’t been by any saving grace of his. Over the years, Blair realised that he could take anything but losing Jim, and the thought that he himself would be an instrument in his demise was too terrifying for him to even think through.

“Don’t live in maybes,” Jim advised, his eyes on the ceiling and his voice tired, a pained note betraying that he had been there himself.

“Yeah…” Blair mumbled but wasn’t convinced. If he had been the cause of Jim’s death he would never have been able to forgive himself.

Jim turned his head to give Blair a warm smile, which changed into a tired yawn. “You worry too much, Chief,” he said with affection.

Blair smiled a little at that and watched as Jim closed his eyes and slipped into a deep sleep. It had taken Blair a long time to figure out that almost no pain medicine worked on Jim. A Sentinel’s body was, in a way, self healing. Jim had to allow his body to slip into unconsciousness. Of course Blair had never said it like this to Jim. He had said that Jim had to allow the drugs to work. In reality Blair was convinced that when Jim had surgery he would have been just as deeply under without any drugs, if the Sentinel allowed himself to be.

Blair sat by Jim’s bedside and watched the big man’s chest rise and fall, yet the reassurance that Jim was here, still with him, didn’t calm him down. Blair had admitted to loving Jim several months ago but only to himself. Afraid of rejection, he had never even attempted to approach the Sentinel. But apparently he wasn’t as good at hiding his emotions as he thought because Banks had figured it out and had promised to keep the information to himself. As Jim was a very private man, Banks hadn’t been able to help Blair with any information in regards to how Jim might react if Blair broached the subject, and so Blair kept silent.

It was with a worried mind and low spirits that Blair fell asleep, exhaustion after hours of worry making it impossible for him to keep awake any longer, though he wanted to so he could assure himself Jim was safe.

The next thing Blair knew he was in a grey and white jungle dreamscape and Jim’s first Guide and Shaman appeared before him. The jungle was silent and seemingly asleep around them. Blair was dressed the way he had been when he had fallen asleep, in jeans and a warm sweatshirt while the old Shaman was dressed in his tribal outfit and war paint.

“What do you seek, young Shaman?” the old Shaman asked, and to Blair’s mind the words seemed to be in English, enabling him to understand as he, unlike Jim, didn’t master the Tribe’s native tongue.

“I seek peace for my Sentinel,” Blair replied, feeling hope for the first time since Jim had been injured. Hope that the old Shaman had the answers that Blair felt he didn’t.

“What do you seek?” the Shaman asked again.

Blair sighed painfully, his mind filled with doubt and guilt. “You made a mistake making me the new Shaman. I am not up to the job. I can’t…” He took a deep breath and admitted, “I can’t be his Guide. I wish….I wish….I wish Jim had never met me.”

The old Shaman looked him straight in the eyes as he calmly replied, “As you wish.”

* * *

Blair awoke to a ringing phone and he fought covers to answer it, managing to pick it up from the nightstand on the fourth ring. “Hallo?”

“Blair, where are you? Your class started 10 minutes ago,” said an annoyed and stressed female voice on the other end.

Blair shook his head and looked around the small room he was in. Noises, loud noises, from the other apartments and the street reached him. The room was disorganized with most items in boxes and nothing on the walls. It was in poor but ok condition, just very crowded. Half of the space was barely large enough to contain the bed, the nightstand and a built-in closet. The other half sported a small bathroom and a small kitchen area, separated from the ‘bedroom’ by a tiny table and one chair. On the table stood a lot of old take away boxes and the sink held dirty utensils. Blair suddenly missed Jim’s almost fanatic tendency to want to have everything clean.

“Hmm…where?” was the only thing Blair could think of saying to the woman on the phone. Her voice wasn’t even familiar to him.

“Building 203, 2nd floor. You better hurry. I won’t keep covering for you,” the woman warned and hung up.

Blair took a deep breath as he hung up. Could it really have happened? Was this a part of the power of the Shaman? A kind of power he would never be able to master himself, he was sure of that. He quickly dressed, grabbed his backpack from the floor and went outside, determined to explore this world he had created and in which his desire, his wish, for Jim to be safe must have come true, and that alone made him feel hopeful. If that was true then it didn’t matter that he apparently was in a worse financial situation than he had been when he had first met Jim…well, met him in the other timeline. This concept needed some getting used to, and he considered contacting a friend of his who studied physics and ask him some questions…theoretical of course. When Blair went outside the building he recognised the area as one of the worst in the city and was unable to spot his car. Instead he took the bus to the University, assuming he was still at Rainer since the events that had lead to his dismissal in this timeline wouldn’t have happened. He quickly reached the building and as he had hoped a young woman he could not recall ever having seen before, approached him.

“Blair,” she said with a smile and hugged him. “They’re in room 14. I gave them some exercises to do while they waited for you,” she said as she drew back from him and they walked towards the classroom together.

“I know this may sound strange but it’s really important,” Blair said and stopped walking, forcing her to do likewise. “Have I ever mentioned someone named Jim?”

She thought for a while but then shook her head. “No. Why?”

“Just a strange phone call the other day….probably wrong number,” Blair gave the lie with practiced ease, caught between feeling sad that Jim wasn’t in his life and relieved, as it meant that Jim was okay; he was safe.

“Ok. See you at lunch,” she said as she started to walk away.

“Can I meet you in my office?” Blair yelled after her, hoping to be told where that would be.

She laughed as she briefly turned around, apparently assuming he was joking with her. “You don’t have an office. You work freelance, remember? See you later.” With that she was gone.

Blair taught the class. It was a psychology class for undergraduates so he could have done it blindfolded. The rest of his day was spent trying to figure out more about his own life. Apparently he had never found any Sentinels but had been unable to give up. As a result he had devoted so much time attempting to locate one that he had been thrown out of the doctorate program. All his money and energy had been spent on his Sentinel research, and due to the loss of his position he had been stuck with a lot of debt and bills. He had sold anything he could but his, apparently to most, fanatic obsession with Sentinels, meant he only worked freelance at whatever university or business presentations would have him. His situation appeared to mean he had few friends. All in all it seemed a depressing life, but Blair was determined not to pity himself. He could make some changes now. The most important thing was that Jim was safe. He had saved that part for last. Back home again at the end of the day he called Captain Banks’ private number as he sat on his bed in the small room.

“Simon Banks.”

“I’m…a friend of Jim Ellison’s. I was wondering if you knew where I could find him,” Blair said, his hand white around the phone from holding it so tightly. Mentally, he recited a Jewish prayer his mother had taught him as a child, hoping that Jim was well and safe.

On the other end of the line Banks sighed, a soft and pain-filled sound that made Blair really begin to worry. “You must not be a close friend if you haven’t heard.”

“Heard what?” Blair asked sharply, his heart racing a mile a minute in concern.

“He was admitted to a hospital for some allergic reactions some years back. They found it to be a mental condition. He was sent to a mental institution.”

Blair sat up straight at the news, anger, fear and guilt fighting for dominance. “What? How could you allow that?” He accused hotly.

“I didn’t allow anything,” Banks said coldly.

Blair forced himself to take a deep breath; he knew it wasn’t Banks’ fault and that he would have done anything to help if he could. “Fine. Where is he?” He could always blame himself later; now he needed to help Jim.

There was a long silence before Banks said, his voice kinder now, betraying his own feeling of loss, “He passed away a few months ago.”

Blair almost dropped the phone in shock and he had to remind himself to breathe. “What? How?” This couldn’t be happening, he taught frantically. This couldn’t be happening.

“He’d had violent reactions to sensory impressions since he’d been admitted. They said it overwhelmed him in the end. His system just…shut down.”

Blair didn’t say anything; he couldn’t. In shock he hung up the phone without another word. For a long time he simply sat still on the bed. Then, in a fit of rage, tears begun to roll down his cheeks, and his threw the phone against the wall, making the neighbour yell at him though he barely registered it.

“No!” He yelled loudly before he fell back onto the bed and cried into the pillow. This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening…The tears, the pain, the fear, the guilt...he felt like he cried for years.

Exhaustion must have made him fall asleep for the next thing he knew he was back in the dreamscape with the old Shaman, in exactly the same position and place as before.

“What do you seek?” he asked again.

“What is going on here? This is not cool, man. Not cool at all!” Blair protested, still shaken by what he had just been through.

“What do you seek?” he simply repeated.

Blair decided to think more about his answer this time. If he was to keep Jim safe the answer had to be further back, in Peru.

“I wish I had met Jim in Peru so he would have known what he was from the beginning, but we parted ways thereafter.”

“As you wish.”

This time when Blair awoke it was by an alarm clock, and he wasn’t as confused as he had been before. He stopped the alarm and looked around. He was pleasantly surprised to find himself in a big double bed with fine linen inside a beautiful and large bedroom, everything high class, stylish…but cold. It seemed sterile somehow.

“Honey, remember your lecture at the University here at 10,” a beautiful South American woman said to him as she came out from the bathroom while putting on a pair of golden earrings. She was dressed in a business suit and looked like any man’s dream: a professional woman with long dark hair and a beauty that belonged to magazines.

“Sure,” Blair mumbled but she had gone out of the room.

When Blair had dressed, he explored a little and found only one room which held any of his old artefacts; apparently it was his study, and was decorated in the same organised chaos Jim loved to hate and would fanatically try and clean up. From the diplomas and pictures on the wall Blair saw that he was a professor and a writer, having published theoretical and fictitious books based on Sentinels. His thesis had also been on Sentinels but when he flipped through it, and the books he wrote, he found nothing about Jim, to his great relief.

Blair felt much better while he ate breakfast in a kitchen as modern, rich, sophisticated but cold as everything else in the house. Apparently he had a housekeeper, who told him that his wife, Ann, had left for work. He found out Ann was a lawyer. Blair then let the housekeeper go do whatever errands she had indicated she wanted to do in town, feeling uncomfortable being waited on. His life here was very different than he had ever thought it would be. His clothes were stylish and nice, all more or less classic business suits. Everything was so…mainstream. Luckily he still had his long hair, but from the sparse photos in the house he apparently always tied it. All this focus on money and fitting in… it was not him at all. But these were small things; he could change who he was in this life now. At least this time he had saved Jim. Hadn’t he?

He was sitting in the kitchen and had just decided to call Simon after breakfast to make sure Jim was indeed safe this time, when an ice cold voice made his blood freeze and his coffee cup stop in motion half way to his lips.

“Enjoying life, Chief?”

That voice…so like Jim yet so different. So cold….so deadly.

Blair put down the coffee and turned around to face the owner of the voice, a smile on his lips despite the unusual tone to the words, relieved and happy that Jim seemed to be alive and well. “Jim?” Blair asked questioningly when he saw him move to stand before the table he was sitting at, his smile fading.

It was Jim yet not. He was dressed in black BDU's and a tight fitting black t-shirt, even more muscular and fit than ever, if that was even possible. He had black army issue boots on and a gun belt tied under his armpits, and another around his waist with both a gun and a large army issue knife. A bulge on his right ankle indicated he probably had a knife stuck in that boot. His hair was cut short, military style. He seemed older, and from much more than years; his face had lines it didn’t use to have. Yet despite it all the greatest difference was in his eyes. They were colder than winter and sharper than a knife. There was no warmth in his expression as Blair faced him.

“You remember my name. I’m honoured,” Jim drawled, thick sarcasm edged with a darkness that made Blair want to draw back but he forced himself not to, reminding himself that this was Jim, the man he loved and who would die for him.

“What can I do for you?” Blair said calmly, trying to play the role of the distinguished professor he apparently was in this life. He rose from the chair and tried to move around so the table would stay between them but Jim stepped in front of him, blocking his way.

“What do I want from you?” Jim echoed, pretending to consider it. Faster than Blair had thought possible for anyone to move, Jim pulled the knife from his belt and held it against Blair's throat.

“What the…?” Blair began, more surprised than anything else, but Jim pressed the knife so close that it made more words impossible. For the first time in his life Blair feared Jim, and he was suddenly reminded of the fact that the Jim in his reality could kill a man in more ways than Blair wished to know. He had a feeling this Jim was even more skilled in the deadly arts.

“What I want from you is my life back,” Jim snarled. Then he seemed to calm down a little as he took a deep breath. “But I guess you made a good trade there. One Sentinel for all this.” With his eyes and head he indicated the kitchen and the entire house.

“Whatever I’ve done to you…I’m sorry,” Blair said sincerely as Jim pulled the knife back just enough to allow him words, eager to try and make amends for whatever wrongs he may have committed. Yet still he was hopeful. Jim was here with him. He could fix this.

“Sorry you sold me to the army for life? Or sorry that you didn’t get more out of it?” Jim asked darkly, the knife briefly biting his skin before Jim released it a little again.

“I didn’t sell anyone!” Blair protested hotly but a twist of Jim’s wrist cut of any more words as the knife got so close to his skin it was starting to draw small droplets of blood.

“Smart guy like you and you had no idea that when you, despite my clear wishes, told the Army unit that came for me in Peru that I was a Sentinel, you didn't think the army would have a special plan for me? Hell, I’d been in the military most of my life before that, I loved that life, and even I knew it!” Jim said with something between hate, disgust and disbelief in his voice.

“I…I’m sure it wasn’t like that,” Blair protested hoarsely, barely able to get the words out, but for the first time in his life he felt self loathing. If he had really done this to Jim…what kind of man did that make him? His entire belief about himself had been based on his clear conviction that he would never take a life or aid in ruining one.

“Like what? Do you know what they did to me? Did it even cross your mind?” Jim asked darkly.

“I…” Blair began, unable to find the right words to express the chaos he was feeling and thinking.

“Did you know they ran tests on me? Endless tests. For hearing, sight, smell…” he paused before he added, his voice harsher and deeper than before, “pain.”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” Blair mumbled, sympathy making tears form in his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. This was even worse than before. What had he done?

“They found the triggers, they’re good at that,” Jim went on as if he hadn’t spoken, his eyes taking on a somewhat far away look. “Knew how to control me, how to induce zones. Had me playing the nicely trained assassin Sentinel for them for years,” Jim told him with a cold detachment, as if it was not his own life he was talking about. His gaze returned to Blair’s, holding it in a painful stare as if it was a physical connection. “You know what kept me going? The thought of breaking out long enough for me to get my revenge,” he said evenly, his control making the threat in his words seem more real, more frigid.

Blair closed his eyes as he fought pain and guilt. When he reopened them his mind had been made up. If there was only one way to keep Jim safe; so be it. “Then kill me now,” he said with a calm that for a moment seemed to take Jim by surprise.

Jim gave him an odd look but then the coldness was back. Whatever love and warmth had been in him once had been destroyed long ago in the life he had been forced to live. Jim pressed the knife closer but then said, his voice suddenly sounding almost soft. “I want you to know that as much as I’ve hated you these last many years….just as much did I love you those months in Peru.”

Blair smiled despite it all. He loved him. For just a moment Jim had loved him. It seemed to make everything worth it. “Thank you,” he said heartfelt, tears of joy now forming in the corners of his eyes.

Jim nodded and before Blair had time to be afraid Jim ran the knife across his throat, killing him quickly, a kindness Blair was unable to voice his gratitude for.

* * *

“Chief? Blair? Blair?” The voice began to become urgent and a little worried with each new call.

“Hmm?” Blair mumbled and opened his eyes. He was back in the hospital, Jim lying in the bed beside him, looking at him with worried and wonderfully warm and alive eyes. The bigger man had a hand on Blair’s wrist and must have tried to wake him for some time by the worry clearly showing in his face and eyes.

“You ok?” Jim asked him, concerned, and tried to draw his hand back but Blair reached out and held on tight, tears appearing in his eyes.

“Jim!” A rush of emotions overtook him and without thinking he moved to embrace Jim as much as was possible. The result was that he ended up half lying in the hospital bed with the much larger man, his face hidden in the curve of Jim’s neck.

“Shh. Chief…it’s ok,” Jim said softly, clearly a little uncertain about what was going on but feeling the urge to protect and relieve his Guide’s distress.

“I thought…I thought….” Blair mumbled, tears in his voice making him hyperventilate and hard to understand.

“I’m ok. We’re both ok.”

Blair drew back so he could see Jim face to face. He wiped some of the tears away with the back of his hand but his eyes were clear and determined. He was no longer afraid. He no longer doubted what his role was in Jim’s life. It had never been to keep him from danger but to love him, to help Jim as a Sentinel, and become the Shaman he had been destined to become.

“I love you,” Blair said simply, sincerely. Jim’s eyes widened in surprise but before he could react Blair had pressed his lips to Jim's in an intense kiss. When he felt Jim stiffen, he began to draw back, his fears and insecurities threatening to return. Then he felt Jim put his unhurt arm around him in a warm but powerful grip, keeping him close as he responded to Blair’s kiss with a passion and intensity that took Blair by surprise. When the kiss ended, Jim released his hold enough for Blair to pull back but still kept his arm around Blair's back.

Blair smiled warmly but a little insecurely at him, unaware that his whole face seemed to glow with love and happiness.

Jim smiled softly, feeling humbled by the joy in Blair’s eyes and face. He moved his arm and stroked Blair’s cheek with his unhurt hand as he said, his voice warmer than Blair had ever heard it, “I love you too.”

Blair smiled as radiantly as a small sun, making Jim’s smile widen in return. Then he grew more serious. “There are some things I need to say. About today…or yesterday,” he began, unsure of when Jim had been hurt since he had lost all sense of time.

Jim shook his head, cutting him off. “I do what I do, and I am what I am. I’ve accepted that and so should you. No need to debate it.” His voice was decisive but soft.

“Cop, warrior, fighter…Sentinel?” Blair said, understanding that, like Jim had come to terms with what and who he was, so should he.

“And lover,” Jim said warmly, hopefully, and Blair nodded with more eagerness than he had intended to betray. Jim simply smiled happily before their lips meet in a tender kiss filled with promise, hope, compassion and strength. Strength to move on, to accept, to forgive…and to face the future together.

 _Thanks_ , Blair thought to his spiritual guide. For a moment he swore he saw the old Shaman standing in the other end of the hospital room, smiling at them, while a black panther and grey wolf lay together behind him. The wolf was acting supportive and loving towards the panther who, loving in return, still lay protectively before the wolf. A second later the vision was gone, yet it still made him smile, convincing him that he and Jim could make it. From Jim’s returning smile he knew Jim had seen the vision too and must be thinking the same.

**The end**


End file.
